


Breaking Free

by 1mocha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Dragon Age Quest: Champions of the Just, F/M, Falling In Love, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1mocha/pseuds/1mocha
Summary: Lavellan fought through the Envy Demon's labyrinth and is almost free, thanks to help from Cole. The last illusion in the prison breaks his heart, and almost gives Envy the upper hand. Once freed, he's left to question the feelings the encounter brought to light.





	Breaking Free

"Think of water.” The boy in the hat urged. Cole stood in between two of the stone pillars as they gushed green flame, yet he remained unscathed. “No, quiet, thing! I am learning!” Envy’s screech boomed off the walls, but the fountains of fire went silent as the demon spoke. Being a mage, Ganymede was already familiar with how to shape his dreams, so he drew upon memories of his grandmother pouring cool water from a pitcher. He was still within his own mind, and he was not about to let the demon continue warping it to suit itself. Water quickly covered the stone floor as every fountain was filled with it.

When the elf next looked for the human, Cole was gone. Cold water lapped at Ganymede’s boots, and it was starting to cover them as he walked towards the only apparent exit to the prison Envy had constructed. Already he had seen too many horrific things, but Cole had assured that he was tiring the demon out and that he would only get stronger as he worked his way “up.”

Envy had shown Ganymede his own death twice over, albeit with a clone whose eyes glowed as green as his mark instead of the bright but natural shade of the color they truly were. The first time, Envy in the guise of Commander Rutherford had stabbed him in the stomach. The knife had wound up in Ganymede’s own hands as he watched himself collapse, the hilt feeling like a block of ice in his thin, pale hands while Envy reshaped itself. The second time was during a vision involving Cassandra and Chancellor Roderick, a twisted take on his memory of their first meeting with the Chantry Brother. Ganymede saw the same glowing-eyed replica pierced by Cassandra’s longsword and lying on the table Roderick had covered with maps. His blood ran across the nations and in the seas of Thedas before dripping off the table’s sides. The Chancellor had questioned if the Seeker had gone mad. After that, the demon had taken on the form of the false Lavellan to better show Ganymede how the world and his legacy might look once he broke and Envy took control of his body. He could not stand to let the demon have “fun,” as it sickeningly put it, living his life and seeing the world through his eyes, or rather bringing about its end in the name of the Elder One. Worst of all, it had assumed Josephine’s shape after the first vision of death to explain its plans for him. Hearing her voice so unnatural and mangled made his stomach churn. The demon had to know how much that hurt. She had a heart as shimmering and golden as her gown, and never would she give voice to cruel taunts or wish death upon anyone as the demon had in her shape.

The door of the last prison cell splintered into shreds of wood and metal before fading away into nothing. He heard Envy laugh, sounding distant yet also close enough to be felt within the shell of one of his large ears. Ganymede stepped forward, and his blood froze within his veins. In the previous ones he entered, he found iterations of Mother Giselle, the Marquis DuRellion, and even Commander Rutherford behind bars and in shackles. None of them had quite the place in his heart that Ambassador Montilyet occupied, however. All seeming so deeply bowed and broken unnerved him, but they did not prepare him for seeing Josephine in the same state. Her brilliant ruffled gown clung to her dainty form in shreds like the rags around a Despair Demon, the gold horribly faded and the rest of the fabric even duller. Her dark hair shielded her face like the demon’s hoods as well, stringy and uncared for, with the rest of it reaching like tendrils down her back. Her delicate feet were bare and bruised, not adorned by soft slippers or even silken stockings. It was clear enough that Josephine was weeping from the way she trembled. Ganymede placed his right hand on some of the steel bars as his heart tore itself apart.

She looked up, as if she were looking through him, out at the guard of her cell. Josephine’s dark eyes were reddened at the corners, and the streaks of fresh tears glimmered on her face. “Four days without food, one without water…” Her body shook has she sobbed. The bars felt painfully solid to the touch. “Why won’t the Herald mention which crime he wishes me to confess to?” The guard looked indifferently on, making no reply. Of course the demon would levy multiple charges against her, all false no doubt. He tried to melt one of the bars with a heated spell, but it remained firm, not responding to his mana. 

“You’re bothered by imperfection.” The false Herald appeared behind him as quietly and suddenly as Cole had, his eyes aglow and a smirk on his face. “Hearing her speak Elvhen when you met was a balm to your ears, and hearing her giggle when you mentioned how meeting her was for the best instead of remaining with your clan was like a song… Do all mortals make such stupid comparisons when they make themselves weak?” Envy frowned. “You give this weakness such a foolish name… Love.” “I am not-” Before he could defend himself, the demon cackled. “Do not try to deny it, elf. You’ve practically built her a shrine in your thoughts. So many memories… Practicing your people’s ancient tongue, learning about her homeland, laughing together about the antics of the guests your Inquisition entertains… I will enjoy crushing this weakness when I have your form.” Fire went straight from Ganymede’s right hand towards the false Lavellan’s face, but it disappeared and reappeared beside him as the magic dissolved into thin air. Tears streamed hot down his face as he scowled, readying another spell. “Your Sylaise can’t save you now. Those marks across your eye mean nothing. You are my prey, Herald. This devastation you feel is but a taste of what is to come.” 

“It doesn’t have to be.” Cole’s airy voice rang clearly through the cell, and the actual Herald saw past his anger. 

“… This is as real as I make it.” Ganymede straightened up from his fighting stance. The mana in his hand cooled as his spell dissolved. “And now I want to see something else.” He moved toward a set of broad wooden doors at the end of cell. They flew open at his touch. A few remaining tears loosened themselves from his eyes, but he was past the point of weeping. The phantom of Lady Montilyet vanished within her cell, and she reappeared again on the outside of it as Ganymede remembered her best. Josephine held a bundle of Crystal Grace in her hands, and she smiled in his direction as she faded away. “This farce will soon be at an end, demon.” The redheaded Dalish elf triumphantly put his foot on the first of the stone steps that loomed behind him, all part of a large staircase leading to another set of doors.

“You think you’re clever, mage?” Envy growled. “You think you’re different? You think your face is safe from my grasp?” It chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’re more insolent than I thought, not some passive worm after all…” It placed a thumb and forefinger to its chin in thought before vanishing.

Therinfal Redoubt and the forest surrounding it were recreated in the next illusion. As he fled through the cool rainy air, Ganymede passed Orlesians, some noble while others were mere soldiers, but all were outfitted to fight. From the way they spoke, Val Royeaux burned at the hands of the false Herald of Andraste and his army of demons, and the Elder One was following the trail to victory Envy had blazed for him. Only this fortress remained as their last refuge. “The People will curse your name, Herald.” Envy sounded confident as it mocked him from some place unseen. “They will bleed when they look upon the Inquisition’s standards, always ignorant of the fact that you raised theirs highest when you came here. How does it feel to fight them now?” Ganymede turned to see two soldiers take swings at him, but both were held off by a pair of Shades. It was strange to see the creatures following him around, aiding him instead of attacking. “You don’t have to fight them. Just keep going up.” Cole reminded gently, also heard but not seen. Once again, he followed the winding sets of stairs that led to the entrance of Therinfal’s main hall, exactly to where he was standing when Envy had strangled him and trapped him in his own mind. The two Shades disappeared, but he was by no means alone.

The false Lavellan appeared again, more furious than ever. “Unfair, unfair!” Envy shouted like a petulant child, grabbing his throat again and lifting him up off the ground. He was pressed firmly into one of the red doors that led into the hall. “That thing kept you whole! It kept you from being reshaped, molded as I need you to be… It wouldn’t let me crush you!” The other’s mark glowed. “Then I’ll try again! This time with more pain…” Ganymede clawed at the other’s fingers and tried to squirm out of its grip as he struggled for air. “What could you possibly gain from being me?!” The creature looked at him in disbelief, its glowing hand stopping just before it reached his temple.

“What... What could you gain? What could you gain…” Envy with his face shook its head. It groaned, perhaps in anger or in frustration as it looked away. Black smoke surrounded the hands of one of the praying statues nearby, and Cole appeared again. “It’s frightened of you. It knows you resisted even when you brought were so low, and it can’t take it.” Envy growled. “Enough of your meddling!” It released Ganymede from its grip. “Get out, you-” Envy’s words were cut off as it was roughly shoved away. “You won’t touch Josephine or anyone else! Dread Wolf take you, demon!” Ganymede exclaimed as the doors, the walkway, the soft rain and the rest of the illusion dissolved around them.

When he next opened his yellow-green eyes, he felt slightly queasy. The next thing the elf felt was a large, strong hand pulling him away—Iron Bull. Behind the Qunari, Solas and Sera each had eyes as large as eggs. “Kill it, kill it now!” Sera nocked an arrow a bit too close to Ganymede’s ear. “A demon… An Envy Demon? But that means the Lord Seeker is…” Ser Barris seemed to not believe his eyes as the demon bent upwards between one of its sets of legs and screeched at the five of them. Sera’s arrow fell short as it pursued the dark cloud Envy transformed into. Soon enough, the demon was behind several rippling, magical barriers at the end of the great hall.

“You all right, Boss? You’re lookin’ pretty pale. Not that I can blame you…” Iron Bull helped the Dalish elf stay on his feet. Ganymede hadn’t realized how weak he’d become. “That demon must have tried to possess him. An Envy Demon… What it must have put you through.” Concern flashed across Solas’ face. “You’re still you, right Medey? That demon’s not in there?” Sera rapidly tapped a finger to her temple. “I’m fine, I’m fine… Thank you though.” His mind recoiled as the time the demon spent in his body cemented itself into memory, and it showed in his expression. Lavellan removed a healing potion from his belt and downed it as the burns the fountains had inflicted on him began to painfully materialize underneath his coat’s long sleeves. “We must keep up a pursuit. That demon must be stopped.” “The knights can weaken an Envy Demon, but only our veterans know how to take down the barriers one sets up… Follow me, quickly!” Barris led the group into the hall. 

It felt an eternity before the group made its way back to Haven. The Ambassador and Herald walked together out of the war room after Cole disappeared to make himself comfortable somewhere else within the village. “Are you certain you’re all right, Master Lavellan?” Josephine frowned as she tried to meet his gaze. He had avoided her eyes ever since he returned. “I…” Ganymede fumbled for an answer. “Yes, Lady Montilyet.” He nodded quickly, barely able to meet her gaze. Was he merely infatuated, infected with the sort of temporary feelings younger men possessed? Why did the demon get to declare what stirred in his heart “love?” Just to rob him of the opportunity to decide—or realize—that for himself? “As long as you’re all right, so am I.” He replied. She laughed, and it cut loose much of the worry from around his heart. “Please! You were face-to-face with an Envy Demon not days ago! If you are troubled, by anything at all, you can tell me. Or-or any of your advisors. We are a team, after all.” The Herald nodded in understanding, although he looked away as he felt his cheeks burn. “I… I know. I’m glad of it.” He smiled, seeming relieved as he looked back. “I… Really ought to be going. But I will return this evening to help with your language studies, as promised.” Doubts flung themselves around the elf’s mind. Would he ever be worthy of her? “Take some time to rest beforehand. You need not run yourself ragged for the Inquisition’s sake, Master Lavellan. But I look forward to our lessons, as always. You’re getting better with your Antivan, you know.” While concern still seemed apparent on her face, the ambassador smiled at the mention of his apparent progress in her own language. It would be almost as heart-wrenching to explain to her what the demon had made him see as it was to endure it, but Ganymede tried to put thoughts of that aside. He would open up, but on another day. For now, he would try to enjoy the present.


End file.
